Over the past few weeks I’ve been of an ill humour.  My countenance has been riddled with an atrocious scowl.  After much reflection and a bit of intuition, I finally figured out what was wrong.  Like so many of my fellow bloggers, I’m a very creative person.  I have to put my artistic talents to use or pay the consequences.  In the last few weeks, I”ve worked so much that I’ve not had time to write poetry or short stories, take or edit magnificent photos that boggle the senses, or draw the things I love.  It is imperative that I do these things no matter how trivial they seem to others.  I’d lose my sanity without my crative outlets.  My prose would drive me mad!

I’m a dreamer, a fantacist of sorts.  I dream of a better world in which people actually get that which they deserve.  Good or bad.  About halfway through an incredibly boring workday, I caught myself doodling characters from a short story I started writing but never finished.  I had everyone at work laughing at the drawing of the auld witch and the squirrel innocently encamping in the eve of her house.

So, to keep from going mad for the twenty-three days I have left at my job, I’m setting aside time to do what I do best.

Speaking of work, I’ve got to be there in twenty minutes.  Have a grand week all…

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